


you must be a christmas tree (oh, you light up the room!)

by somethingdifferent



Series: tell me what you think (and don't delay) [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Professors, Extremely mildly dubious consent, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, alcohol fueled shenanigans, copious references to ben being hot as fuck, copious references to sad christmas music, just for the alcohol consumption lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:47:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21941647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingdifferent/pseuds/somethingdifferent
Summary: Rey is the first to react. ”Hi.” She lifts her hand up in greeting and waves it from side to side. She immediately wants to punch herself in the mouth.Kylo lifts his hand up weakly in return from across the aisle.So. There is that.After their tryst at their department's holiday party, Rey runs into Kylo Ren in the grocery store. Shenanigans obviously ensue.[rey/ben; rival professors au pt. 2]
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: tell me what you think (and don't delay) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/901806
Comments: 27
Kudos: 622





	you must be a christmas tree (oh, you light up the room!)

**Author's Note:**

> so remember when i wrote a holiday fic two years ago and said there'd be a sequel? yeah me neither lol

Please, don't be a stranger here.

SUFJAN STEVENS

She’s in the supermarket the next time they see each other.

Rey isn’t wearing makeup, which is one of the things she focuses on to an extreme level. The fact is blaring in her head, and loudly, over and over (YOU’RE NOT WEARING MAKEUP YOU’RE NOT WEARING MAKEUP YOU LOOK LIKE YOU JUST WOKE UP BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT WEARING MAKEUP). The other thing she is thinking about is that one song by The Clash that she can’t help but hum to herself every time she goes grocery shopping, and her brain is singing that on a loop too, _long distance callers make long distance calls_. Somewhere, even in all of that mess, is the memory of his eyes on her, the feeling of his hand between her legs, the sound of his voice in her ear.

Worst of all, she is wearing a giant orange puffer, reindeer earrings, and a pair of Uggs she’s had for years. Kylo, damn him, looks impeccable, tall and dark and devastating, in a black peacoat and shined leather boots. He looks - not quite angry, but something bordering on it. He looks like he wants to sink into the linoleum, like he would rather be anywhere else in the world. One of his hands is clenched way too tightly around a cup of instant ramen, and the styrofoam is clearly giving way under his fingers.

Rey is the first to react. ”Hi.” She lifts her hand up in greeting and waves it from side to side. She immediately wants to punch herself in the mouth.

Kylo lifts his hand up weakly in return from across the aisle.

So. There is that.

Finn was supposed to stay in town too, but at the last minute he’d decided to go home with Rose to meet her family. Rey put on her best, fakest smile and told him she was so excited for them, that she would be totally fine being alone for the holidays, that she was actually looking forward to some quiet nights in with Bebe. Finn was so apologetic, so afraid of leaving her behind, and that only made Rey more adamant that she’d be fine.

”You should totally go!” Even to her own ears, her voice was pitched way too high and squeaky. Rey cleared her throat and lowered it to a normal level when she continued. “I’m just gonna stay in and watch all the Home Alones and maybe the Muppets Christmas Carol.”

”Rey. We’ve talked about the Muppets.”

Rey stuck out her tongue at him, but it had worked, and it was later that week he’d packed a duffel and set off for San Francisco with Rose.

“So yeah, that’s pretty much why I'm here,” she tells Kylo. His brow is furrowed, seeming to convey silent judgement. _Why_ _the fuck are you telling me this, you loon_ those eyes scream. Rey smiles with all her teeth and does some kind of jazz hand situation, remembering too late that her gloves are Rudolph gloves with red pom poms on the back. Kylo’s eyes linger on them for a horrible moment before they return back to her face (YOU’RE NOT WEARING MAKEUP). “Anyway!" she says brightly. "Why are you alone on Christmas Eve?”

He shrugs. “I don’t have the best relationship with my family.”

Rey hums in noncommittal agreement. She is cool. She is chill. She totally gets choosing you spend Christmas alone even when you have a family right there.

“That’s a dumb reason to be alone on Christmas,” she blurts out before she can stop herself.

Kylo raises an eyebrow, but doesn't seem to be too affected otherwise. He actually looks kind of...amused. Rey can't help but stare and stare at him. He's being so _normal_. "You disagree with my decision, I take it."

"I'm not trying to control your life or anything. I just know if I had a -" Rey flushes. He's watching her carefully, his expression inscrutable. She feels ridiculous, she looks ridiculous, and she still can't get that song out of her head, _long distance callers make long distance calls_. Rey shakes her head once and plasters on a smile. "Doesn't matter. Have a good night, Kylo."

She only gets halfway down the aisle before Kylo catches up to her, grabbing quickly onto her elbow. When Rey turns around, he lets go of her just as fast. She can tell his breathing is uneven. He opens his mouth and closes it again. He looks like someone hedging his bets.

Kylo holds up a bottle of whisky she hadn’t noticed before. "You wanna get drunk together?"

She negotiates him into buying a fifth of vodka for her, which, considering their track record vis a vis arguments about alcohol, she counts as a win.

( _"S_ _chnapps is for sorority girls and people who can’t hold their liquor,” he'd told her at lunch weeks ago, when she'd written it down as a suggestion to include at the holiday party. "Exclusively."_

_Rey scoffed. "You're just afraid of the truth, Ren."_

_”What truth?”_

_”That schnapps is delicious.”_ )

”I feel like this peppermint twist is appropriately festive," she tells him, overly thoughtful, "but the gingerbread flavor could be a really intriguing combination with Dr. Pepper."

"I'm not buying the mixers, Smith, that part is entirely up to you."

She settles on the peppermint vodka, which she pairs with a bottle of eggnog in the dairy aisle. She can't help but laugh at Kylo's clear horror at her decision.

”This," she says smugly, "is a true Christmas classic, especially at parties. You need to spike the eggnog. That way, no one is any the wiser and you can get plastered in front of everyone you know.”

”That’s the dream,” he concedes after a moment of thought. “That is the dream.”

Rey had walked to the grocery store, so it's his car they take to his apartment. He can pay for her Uber home, he reassures her; he can go in it with her, too, and just Uber back just to make sure -

"Kylo," she interrupts him before he can fall further down his rabbit hole. "I can figure it out. I have multiple degrees."

His car is way nicer than hers, which, okay, she expected. It's all black, of course, and the leather seats are so nice and clean she bets he's never eaten Taco Bell in his car - he's probably never even _had_ Taco Bell. It's really extremely strange, being in his car, being with _him_. His hand on the wheel is relaxed, the other hand drumming a rhythm on his leg, and oh, now she's looking at his leg, isn't she.

( _Her name in his mouth was like a prayer._ )

There's something flipping over and over again in her stomach, like a pancake, or maybe it's something turning in her stomach, like a waffle maker. Maybe she's just hungry. 

"Can we get Taco Bell?" she asks suddenly, out of the blue.

"Heathen," Kylo mutters, seemingly to himself, but there's the ghost of a smile on his face as he pulls into the drive-through.

After Rey mixes their drinks at his kitchen island (fuck him, a kitchen fucking island), they eat their tacos on the floor in front of his absurdly low coffee table. Rey does, at least, while Kylo does his best to hunch over it from his position on the couch. Black leather, of course.

"You look ridiculous, I hope you know."

"Shut up," Kylo says around a mouthful of food. "I'm focusing."

Rey raises her eyebrows. "Clearly."

"Transcending, even, the limitations of man."

"You seem transcendent."

"You're a normal size, Smith, you don't get to criticize my technique."

She glances over his body. He really is massive. She felt so small by comparison when he'd manhandled her on his desk, his palms stretching over her bare thighs. Rey blinks and swallows hard as her eyes drift across his shoulders, down his legs. "I wouldn't dream of it," she murmurs, meeting his eyes after a moment. He's staring at her, his throat working as he swallows, and his dark eyes seem so -

Nope. Bad idea. Bad, bad idea.

Rey stands up and throws out their fast food wrappers, drinking down half of her eggnog as she does. She pauses at the kitchen island and turns around to face him. He's still sitting on the couch, one leg propped on the other. His eyes trail down her body but snap back up when she clears her throat. "Want to play some Christmas music on your fancy sound system?"

"Oh, God. No." Kylo is already pulling his phone out, though, and a few moments later _Tremor Christ_ is playing softly through his speakers.

She manages to wrangle control of the playlist within five minutes. "Pearl Jam," she informs him loftily, "is not Christmassy enough." Rey puts on her own playlist of holiday music she had cultivated years ago, when she and Finn spent their first official family Christmas together.

Kylo groans as the opening notes of _Santa Baby_ play and downs his drink in one long swallow.

” _River_? No way.” Kylo is on the floor with her after his second drink, his elbows propped on the table, his long legs unfolded far enough that his foot just barely brushes against her knee.

”I am dead serious. Joni Mitchell is the way to go for seasonal depression. Who doesn’t wish they had a river they could skate away on? Don’t even get me started on _A Case of You._ ”

”I won’t.”

His words don’t stop her from singing anyway, her voice pitched too high and wavering. “You’re in my blood like holy wine!”

”I am familiar with the song, there’s no need to keep going.” There’s a smile tilting up the edges of his lips, and it only makes Rey grin wider and sing even louder and more off key.

”Taste so bitter and so sweet! Oh, I! Could drink! A case of youuuuuu, darling!”

He waves her off, half laughing. “Yeah alright, alright. I accept your conclusion. But, if I may present an example of my own.”

”The best sad Christmas song? Go on. You won’t find a better one.”

”LCD Soundsystem.”

Rey is already shaking her head. “Not possible. Not possible!”

"Christmas will break your heart, and it does! It's a perfect title for a perfect song about a terrible, stressful holiday. Put it on, Rey, and you, too, will see the light."

She fumbles with his phone for a moment before handing it back to Kylo to unlock, grumbling all the while. There's a smirk on his face when he plays the song, and Rey won't let herself smile at that. It's the principle of the thing.

It quickly becomes a competition over who can find the most depressing Christmas song. She counters LCD Soundsystem with Low, he lobs back Tom Waits. They agree that Sufjan Stevens' entire Christmas discography counts as one collective sadness and agree to eliminate him from the list of contenders. Rey puts on _That Was the Worst Christmas Ever_ anyway, despite Kylo's protestations. They volley back and forth Phoebe Bridgers, Tori Amos, Bright Eyes, Courtney Barnett, Fiona Apple, Peach Pit (over Rey's strenuous objection, as it was a cover of Stevens, and Kylo reluctantly relented). 

Rey tries to listen to the lyrical content to determine the sadness level, whereas Kylo insists the sound of the song is the most important factor, which is why, when he puts on The Handsome Family, her gut twists in recognition.

_When you burnt your hair and knocked over chairs, I just tried to stay out of your way -_

"Turn it off," Rey mumbles abruptly, then, a bit louder, "turn it off, please." She hears the music shut off a moment later, and it's suddenly silent in the apartment. Outside, it's beginning to snow. It's the vodka, she thinks, that makes her say casually, almost conversationally, "I don't have a family, you know. Just me." Kylo is quiet, watching her. He doesn't say anything, letting her speak at her own pace. "I've been on my own since I was a child, and this just - this time of year with the break from classes and the cold and -" ( _his hands in her hair, her hand on his face_ ), "and what happened. What I did. And you've been so nice to me, and I just feel so - silly and small. And alone."

"You're not alone." She doesn't expect the force with which he says the words, his eyes intense and focused, his face turned toward hers. He's sitting upright now, cross-legged, one of his knees bumping gently against hers. Their glasses are abandoned on the table, their backs to the sofa. Rey thinks of his eyes in the stairwell, his mother on the other end of the phone.

"Neither are you." Rey leans into him to knock her shoulder against his, but realizing, just a moment too late, how close they are. His face is only a few inches from hers; she watches as his eyes flicker down to her mouth. "I should go," she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. She makes no move to stand.

"No." He shakes his head as if to physically register his objection. "You shouldn't."

"Kylo -"

"You can - you can call me Ben. If you want."

"I thought you liked Kylo." Rey remembers, with a shiver of tension rippling through her gut, how he’d asked her to say it.

"Maybe. But I think -“ He pauses, seeming not quite sure of how to continue. “I think I want you to call me my name."

Rey nods. “Ben," she says, and that's when he finally leans forward, into her, kissing the word off her lips.

Rey only told Rose about what happened at the office holiday party, and Rey knows for a fact that Rose is the only person who knows because she swore her to secrecy.

”Oh my god,” Rose had said at brunch, her mouth open in a perfect circle of surprise. As if for emphasis, she repeated even slower, “Oh. My. God.”

”I know,” Rey groaned. “It’s so awful right?”

”Awful, are you kidding? He’s so hot.”

”What? You think he’s hot? I thought you hated him!”

Rose rolled her eyes, shoving a piece of French toast in her mouth. ”I hate him because he sucks for being rude to you, not because he’s unattractive. And if you’re the one that wanted to do it and you enjoyed yourself, I mean, hey. More power to you.”

Rey slouched in her chair, pushing her eggs around her plate. ”Doesn’t matter anyway. He hates me now.”

Rose considered it for a moment. “Nah.”

”Nah? Is that all you have to say to comfort me? I have to work with this man, need I remind you.”

”Nah, because you're totally going to fuck him again.”

”Nope. Not a chance.”

Rose raised an eyebrow, grinning widely. “Whatever you say.”  
  


He manages to lift her onto the sofa from their positions sitting on the floor which, okay, clearly he doesn’t skip leg day. Rey’s stomach keeps turning over and over from something that feels startlingly like desire, and she just needs to be naked, she thinks, right now. He’s lying on top of her while they make out like teenagers, his tongue gently licking into her mouth.

”Wait, wait, wait.” Ben stops kissing her for a moment, leaning back to search her face. “Are you good, you know? To be here?”

”I could ask the same thing of you.”

He shrugs, or does some approximation of one. “I feel fine.”

”I feel fine too.” Rey hooks her foot around the back of his knee, pulling his body flush between her open legs. Kylo - _Ben_ \- curls his fingers tighter around the blanket underneath her, like he can’t quite stop himself from holding onto something. “I think I - I really wanted to do this again.”

He smiles, and it’s like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. It lights up the room.

God, she’s becoming a sap in her old age.

”Yeah, me too,” he says softly, gently, and he bends down to kiss her again.

Ben seems perfectly happy to just kiss her and kiss her, his hands trailing occasionally down her sides, bumping over her ribs. Rey shivers when one drifts up to her breast, teasing over her nipple. Her back arches, pushing their bodies even closer together, and she can hear his breath stuttering in his throat as she rubs herself against him. 

Soon enough, Ben is grinding down into her, too, and even through her jeans Rey can feel how wet she’s getting. Which is. Embarrassing, to say the least. When Ben finally brings his hand to her zipper, she practically sighs in relief.

Ben jerks her pants down just enough that he can curve his hand into her underwear, his index finger sliding through her slick wetness. Rey wriggles shamelessly, searching for more friction, more anything. She can feel Ben grinning into her neck, just a moment before he slips one finger completely inside of her.

”You’re soaked,” he marvels, half out of breath, and Rey fights the urge to close her legs. Instead, she reaches between their bodies to grasp at him, where he’s getting impossible hard. She unzips his pants and shoves her hand under the waistband of his boxer-briefs, curls around his cock. Ben lets out a sigh that strangles a groan.

”Shut up,” she growls.

”I wanted you to be wet.” Ben shifts, taking some of his weight off of her to roll onto his side. Jesus, this couch is huge. “I hoped you’d let me do this again.”

”I -“ Rey wants to tell him everything. She wants to tell him how much she’d wanted him, from the moment he’d first smiled at her, how she’d cried after she did that stupid, stupid thing, how she had debated calling him every single day since, how this is probably the best Christmas Eve she’s ever had. She settles for telling him, “I really like you, Ben.”

He curls his finger inside her, and Rey’s vision nearly whites out from pleasure. She can’t help the moan that comes out of her. “I really like you, too,” he murmurs.

He takes her to his bedroom. Rey barely takes note of what it looks like before she’s stretching up on her tiptoes, kissing the smile off his face again, their teeth knocking together for one clumsy moment before he slips his tongue into her mouth.

He walks his backward to the bed, lifting her over the edge of the mattress and setting her on the duvet. Ben crawls over her body, dropping open-mouthed kisses here and there, lifting the edge of her shirt to nibble on the jut of her hipbone. He peels her jeans down the rest of the way, and Rey tries not to wince at the way they’re sticking to her sweaty thighs. Her underwear is next, and Rey lifts her ass off the bed so that Ben can slide them off more easily. He circles her clit with lazy rubs, sliding between her folds every now and then to gather her wetness and dip back inside with a finger or two. 

Rey feels something building inside her, feels ready to burst from his attentions, when he suddenly lowers his head and licks a stripe up the length of her slit. 

”Fuck you,” Rey moans, her head dropping back against his pillow. Silk sheets, fuck him. “You’re not fair.”

Ben doesn’t answer her, content to lap at her pussy with focused flicks of his tongue. Rey must lose track of time, then, because it isn’t long before her hand is curled tightly into his hair (she hates his hair, she wants to know just how many products he uses to make it that soft and lustrous) and she’s grinding her cunt down on his open mouth.

It isn’t too much longer before she comes, before he makes her come, and Rey is babbling nonsense words while her body tenses and shivers and falls apart. She watches dizzily as Ben tugs her shirt over her head. He groans loudly when he sees she’s not wearing a bra underneath, and it’s obscene just by itself, that sound.

“You’re a fucking dream,” he says, palming her breasts in both hands. It makes something flip low in her belly again, the way his hands completely envelop her tits. “It’s like you were made for me.”

“You’re not naked,” Rey whines, pulling at the hem of his shirt. He obliges her, tugging it over his head from behind his neck. Fucking Ben Solo; he’s fucking _jacked_. It’s only another moment before he’s kicking his pants off, with them his underwear, and settling back between her thighs, his eyes rolling back into his head when the head of his cock bumps against her wet cunt. Fuck, she's _dripping_. 

She's relaxed enough, opened wide enough, that the tip nudges just past her folds and inside her for a moment. He moans, and Rey resists the urge to shift her body just so and let him bottom out until he's buried in her.

"Condom?"

"Somewhere," he pants. "In my pocket."

She pauses as she reaches for his jeans where they're crumpled into a heap on the sheets. "You put a condom in your pocket for a trip to the grocery store?"

Ben rolls his eyes, huffing. "In my wallet, I usually keep one in there."

"Just in case?" Rey smiles, digging through the lining of his wallet until she pulls the condom out triumphantly. "Get a lot of action?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," he mutters, rolling the condom halfway down his dick. Rey can feel how her gaze is half-lidded, bedroom eyes. When Ben enters her, sliding slowly inside her body, her eyes flutter shut. Rey pulls him down by the nape of his neck, kissing him again as pulls out and pushes back in until he's fully seated in her.

His thrusts are measured at first, slow and deep, enough to make her toes curl, her heels digging into his mattress. It isn't long before Rey is urging him on a faster pace, then pushing him off completely so she can climb on top of him. Ben's hands come up to her breasts, rolling her nipples between his thumbs while she pushes her body down, feeling him slide impossibly deeper inside her. Rey's hair falls into her face, a strand of it catching between her lips. Ben pushes it back, and it's terrible, isn't it, the way he's gazing up at her. This is what she's always hated about sex, really, the way she can feel a man's eyes on her, the way he's so completely at her mercy; it's usually enough to make her squeeze her eyes shut, try to block him completely out.

She keeps her eyes open as Ben stares at her, unable to look away. She watches as he pushes a finger into her mouth, as he groans when she flattens her tongue and sucks. 

"You're fucking beautiful," he says, and it's so earnest, so soft and gentle she almost wants to cry.

When she comes again, it's with the sound of his voice urging her on ( _fuck_ and _yes_ and _Rey_ ), the walls of her cunt pulsing gently around him, milking him for all he's worth. He follows her only a moment after, spilling himself inside her. She can feel him throbbing deep inside, she can feel his breath shaking in his lungs, she can feel his hand gripping her waist tight enough to bruise, and this is what she thinks she might love about sex with Ben: the way he's looking at her, the way he's so completely at her mercy, the way he says her name like a prayer just before he closes his eyes.

In the morning, when she wakes up, it takes Rey a moment to place exactly where she is. Ben's bedroom looks different with the sun streaming through the curtains; it's sparse, the furniture sleek and dark, the only thing on the walls a black and white painting of circles and lines above a desk. She rolls over, searching for the glass of water she saw on his bedside table the night before. He has a copy of a Carl Sagan book laying half open on the nightstand; beside it, a pair of golden dice, a worn out paperback of _Persuasion_. 

"You going through my shit?"

Rey looks back at him, grinning gently. "I wouldn't have pegged you as a Jane Austen fan."

"I'm not, my mother is. She sends me her old books sometimes and demands I read them. I try to humor her."

"I thought -" Rey hesitates for a moment, biting her lip. "I thought you don't have a relationship with your family."

"I don't have the best relationship with them, but it's not like we never talk. I just haven't been home for the holidays in a long time." Ben shrugs, staring at the ceiling. "It's easier that way. For all of us. My dad and I have a hard time getting along when we're stressed, and my Uncle Luke can be a real asshole when he feels like it, and my mother is too busy cooking and doing all her last minute shopping to keep the peace and it's - a mess."

Rey settles back under the covers, wiggling closer to Ben until he unfolds his arm and tugs her against his chest. A month ago, she probably would have fought him about his reasoning, she would've pointed out people like her, who have no choice but to be alone, would give anything to have family drama at the holidays. Instead, she simply rests her head on his shoulder and shrugs. "Maybe you'll change your mind someday."

"Yeah," he murmurs, looking down at her, "maybe. I have a question."

"Mm?"

"How do you look so good this early in the morning?"

"Oh god, no. I look like shit."

"Stop trying to be humble, Rey," he deadpans. "It doesn't suit you."

She pushes his shoulder, ignoring how his face fills with glee at her protest. "You're not being very nice to me."

"I just said you look good, I feel like I should get some credit for that."

"You won't."

"Glad to see nothing has changed." His eyes are soft as he looks at her. Rey resists the temptation to burrow under the covers, or to shoot out of bed and get dressed as quickly as possible. She smiles at Ben, letting herself feel...happy. Of all things. And on Christmas. "You hungry?"

Rey nods, her smile growing wider. At this rate, her face is going to be aching before she even leaves his apartment. "I could eat."

Rey sits at his kitchen island, clad in one of his sweaters, while he makes her an omelette over the stove. Ben had insisted on cooking, and Rey hadn't fought him on it, considering her terrible experiences in her own kitchen. Watching him chop the vegetables and bacon to drop in the pan, she thinks for a moment that she might love him.

She doesn't tell Ben that. She eats the breakfast he made for them and spends their entire conversation convincing him to watch the Muppets with her.

It takes her twenty minutes and the promise of more sex to do the trick, but she thinks she's not giving up all that much anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> SAD CHRISTMAS SONG PLAYLIST!!!!
> 
> 1\. river, joni mitchell  
> 2\. christmas song, phoebe bridgers  
> 3\. christmas will break your heart, lcd soundsystem  
> 4\. did i make you cry on christmas day (well, you deserved it!), peach pit  
> 5\. so much wine, the handsome family  
> 6\. just like christmas, low  
> 7\. christmas card from a hooker in minneapolis, tom waits  
> 8\. 7 o'clock news/silent night, phoebe bridgers & fiona apple  
> 9\. boxing day blues, courtney barnett  
> 10\. blue christmas, bright eyes  
> 11\. pretty much anything by sufjan stevens but the highlights: that was the worst christmas ever!, barcarola (you must be a christmas tree), lonely man of winter
> 
> feel free to add to the list if you have any suggestions!


End file.
